


Sex In Public

by turps



Category: NSYNC, Popslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-25
Updated: 2011-10-25
Packaged: 2017-10-24 23:01:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/268853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turps/pseuds/turps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Last one in the porn challenge series.</p><p>This one was supposed to be sex in public.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sex In Public

“I’m cold.” Pulling at his scarf, JC tightens it slightly, tugging and arranging until the knot is nestled against his neck and wool scratches against his skin. The matching hat is pulled low, and JC shakes his head, making the yellow pompoms swing at the edge of his vision as he hunches his shoulders and draws his hands up inside the sleeves of his puffy jacket, trying to coax warmth back into his fingers.

“You wanted to go for a walk,” Chris points out, entirely unsympathetic to the fact JC is freezing to death.

“Yeah well….” JC shrugs. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, a little alone time, a little romance in the snow. Fine in theory, but the reality? Not fun at all.

“You’re a pussy.” Hands shoved deep in his pockets, Chris looks from JC to the catering trailer, the wet flakes of snow caught in his hair catching the light as he moves, tiny sparkles in the dark spikes. “Come on, I’ll get you a hot chocolate.”  


JC considers, imagines cradling a steaming mug between his hands, but hot chocolate means people, and right now that isn’t what he wants at all. “Later. Sit and watch the snow with me.”

Chris looks at JC like he’s insane, but wanders over anyway. Sitting pressed up close, his gloved hand is against JC’s thigh, rubbing in small arcs, black wool against padded blue fabric. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.” A sudden pinch and JC glares at Chris, who stares back, completely unrepentant. “You know, violence isn’t the answer, and there’s nothing wrong. I just needed some quiet time.”

“Violence is always the answer, but more importantly where’re your gloves?” Chris reaches out, stopping JC from pointedly rubbing at his leg.

  


“Back there.” Indicating the mess of cameras and crew, JC ignores Chris’ tsk, instead he focuses on the feel of his fingers as Chris cups them between his own gloved hands.

“You’re an idiot. You’ll get frost bite and then what will we do?”

“I won’t get frostbite,” JC says, shivering when Chris moves his hand so it’s close to his mouth and blows gently, warm air replacing cold.

Chris stops blowing, and looks at JC over their joined hands. “Why take the chance? Imagine how difficult fingering would be with stumps.”

“I don’t know, I was online last week and….” JC jumps when Chris nips his finger, which really, isn’t nice at all because all JC was going to do was tell him about that site he found.  


“Don’t need to know.”

Chris’ mouth brushes against JC’s fingertips again, and he can feel each word in warmth. Then Chris is looking up, eyes dark and gleaming and JC can’t look away. He watches as a snow flake lands against spiky lashes, melting against the delicate skin under Chris’ eyes. Can see his own reflection as Chris leans in closer, movements deliberate as he licks over the tips of JC’s fingers, leaving tiny touches of damp heat that immediately cool.

A last touch against JC’s little finger, then Chris retraces his path. He licks over each chilled finger, and JC shifts in place, body frozen except for the tips of one hand. Then Chris smiles, a slight curve of lip as he changes licking to sucking.

There’s immediate heat. Chris’ tongue slides over JC’s finger, pressing it against the roof of his mouth. JC remains still, heart beginning to race as Chris licks with long swipes of tongue, his lips pursed and cheeks hollowed as he slowly pulls back, the smooth skin of his inner lip gliding against JC’s finger.

  


“My mouth’s cold too.” It’s a lame line, but JC doesn’t care. Steam clouds in the air as he exhales, looking toward the interview site where crew are hurrying between the trailers, hunched and bundled up against the snow. JC gasps when Chris moves in even closer, licking over the lobe of JC’s ear, then down, each touch causing shivers, his mouth cold against JC’s skin, causing a cooling trail until he’s nuzzling in above the scarf, his nose a cold spot against JC’s neck. Chris licks along the line of JC’s jaw, his goatee leaving a trail of sensation, tiny lines scratched over chilled skin.

JC pushes his hand under Chris’ jacket, cursing when he finds layers of shirts and t-shirts, burrowing under them until finally he can lay his hand flat against the curve of Chris’ stomach.

“Jesus, C. Your hand’s like ice.”

Chris shivers, a full body shiver, his words encased in vapour that floats past JC’s face, brushing past his cheeks and over the frozen tip of his nose. JC doesn’t move, just keeps his hand pressed close, enjoying the heat against his palm.

Chris kisses upwards, pressing his lips against JC’s chin, then moves on, each kiss a contrast of heat and cold. Chris’ mouth is hot against JC’s own and his lips feel dry as he deepens the kiss, using his tongue to explore, sliding it across JC’s lips, over his teeth and tongue as JC curls his hand, fingernails scraping over bare skin.  


“Come on.” Chris suddenly stands and grabs JC’s hand, urging him to his feet. “We need to take this somewhere private.”

Rationally JC agrees. Making out in full view of the crew isn’t a good thing to do, but still, the urge to just grab Chris and throw him in the snow is overwhelming. He looks over his shoulder, considering. There’s a bank of snow behind the low wall, and it’s not like Chris is that tall, especially when he’s bending down and really, the crew is busy and….

Suddenly the world tumbles and JC finds himself on his back on the other side of the wall. He can feel the impact in his calves, lessoned by layers of padding as he stares up, watching snowflakes drift slowly to the ground.

“We can’t have sex here,” JC points out, and it’s true. They’re in public for one, and two, there’s all this snow, and no way is he getting his naked ass out in this cold. Then again. JC’s all about indulging impulses, and Chris is _looming_ as he slowly looks JC up and down.

“I know.” Chris drops to his knees, snow crunching as he straddles JC’s legs. “I’m gonna blow you instead.”

JC approves; a lot. Especially when Chris looks down at him -- unblinking -- and JC’s sure even the snow is melting under that gaze. Chris shakes his head slightly, tongue a flash of pink against his lips, and he rocking forward, rolling his hips as he pushes his hands under JC’s jacket, searching for the fly of his pants.

“Just a warning. It’s cold, so.” JC shrugs and Chris keeps fumbling with the button.

“Doesn’t matter.”

Words are forgotten when Chris finally loosens the button and zip, letting the frosty air inside. Immediately JC feels his poor dick trying to hide from the cold, but it doesn’t deter Chris at all. Tugging until JC’s pants are gaping, Chris braces his hands on JC’s thighs, leaning forward and breathing heavily. The warmth feels good, and JC instinctively seeks it out, hips moving upwards and he inhales sharply when he feels Chris so close.  


“Chris….” JC gasps when Chris looks at him, his cheeks flushed, his hold tightening, digging through JC’s pants. A last glance and Chris leans forward so he can lick across the head of JC’s dick, careful touches designed to tease and JC needs more, the cold replaced by heat that’s spread with each tiny touch, each sound Chris makes as he sucks and licks, wet slurps and low moans deep from his throat. JC craves those sounds, that heat, and his hips are moving faster now, his head thumping back against the ground when Chris swallows him down, sucking hard and JC takes back anything he’s said about Chris’ big mouth because this is perfection. The way Chris is licking along JC’s dick, the suction as JC pulls out then thrusts back in.

Cold sears JC’s throat as he pants for breath, letting air out in clouds of white as Chris sucks hard and slides his tongue over the head of JC’s dick, pressing firmly as he makes noises of pleasure that JC matches note to note.

Breath ragged, JC looks along the line of his jacket, transfixed by the hollow of Chris’ cheeks, the line of dark lashes, the slow slide of his dick between the shine of Chris’ lips.

Knowing Chris can take it, JC moves faster. Fucking Chris’ mouth with short hard thrusts, taking what he needs as Chris urges him on, opening wider, and everything JC gives, Chris is taking.

  


JC thrusts, lost in wet warmth and sensation as he’s sucked hard, pleasure building, an engulfing fire that expands with each harsh breath, as Chris licks and sucks in a punishing combination that has JC falling apart. His knees tremble and thighs burn as Chris draws in a breath and sucks JC in even deeper,holding him there as the pleasure peaks, then takes JC down hard.

Panting, JC watches as Chris leans back, heavy against JC's legs, shivering visibly before he attemps to zip up JC’s pants.

“You owe me.” Chris wipes his hand across his mouth. His eyes are dark as he moves in for a kiss, and JC rests his hands against Chris’ shoulder, deepening the kiss, licking across Chris’ mouth, over his tongue, tasting himself with every touch.

  



End file.
